Quin: The Mystic Series

Summary

Quin Kavanagh has it all – extraordinary looks, powerful magic, and an endless sea of beautiful witches to choose from, but the one witch he wants, he’s never met. The mysterious angel influences his every move, confounding his friends and complicating his sex life, yet he refuses to forsake his dream girl for those in his reality.

Fans of the Mystic Series will love getting a deeper look at its magical characters through this series of scenes chronicling Quin's younger years. Explore this hero with heart at ages sixteen and twenty then follow him into the most breathtaking moment of his life – the moment he finally meets the woman of his dreams.

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Quin - B.C. Burgess

Three

Copyright 2015 by B.C. Burgess

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, store in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the above author of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status or trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved.

Bandit Publishing

ISBN: 978-1-940652-37-5

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A high-pitched bell harshly resounded through the loudspeakers, signaling the end of the school day and snapping Quin out of his daydream. Most students had already stood, ready to rush out the door and start their spring break, but Quin had yet to unfold himself from a desk he’d outgrown his freshman year. The hexless sixteen-year-olds could still sit comfortably, but Quin was already over six-feet tall and thicker than most seniors, so he was doomed to spend his remaining high school years folded in half and unable to rotate left or right.

His animosity toward the desks, though strong, couldn’t match Weylin’s, and as Quin stood and stretched, he laughed at his friend’s struggle to slide from his seat.

Fuck that desk, Weylin muttered. When I come back from spring break, I’m bringing my own. Free from his confines, he grabbed his backpack off the chair and swung it over his shoulder. Are you going to track practice?

Yeah, Quin answered, making his way toward the hall.

Why?

Because I need the phys ed credit.

You could skip.

And get a lecture from Coach Spits-a-lot? No thanks. That man has no understanding of personal space, and I won’t give him a reason to invade mine. I’ll be lucky if I make it through the year without getting expelled for knocking the spit out of him.

And that’s why I chose weightlifting over running, Weylin concluded.

I might join you next year, Quin returned, but Weylin’s attention had drifted to the pack of cheerleaders bouncing by.

One of them noticed his stare – a senior who ranked high on the popularity scale. In fact, she ruled it with a tiny fist boasting manicured nails, which she swept through straightened and highlighted hair while fluttering false lashes at Weylin.

Quin rolled his eyes and kept walking, but Weylin slowed enough to give the queen of the seniors the confidence to abandon her posse and walk with him instead.

Like what you see? she asked.

That’s why I look, he confessed, but he didn’t grovel like most sophomore boys would. He continued toward the locker he shared with Quin, and the cheerleader followed. If she was surprised by his failure to kiss her ass, she didn’t show it.

It’s the uniform, isn’t it? she asked, flipping her short skirt.

Weylin quietly laughed. Sure.

But Quin knew it was less about the uniform and more about how much skin it showed. No matter how much flesh Weylin saw outside of school, he missed it while they were among the hexless, following public school guidelines.

It’s Weylin, right? she asked, still tagging along.

Weylin was the largest guy in their school and had a voice and personality to match, so his name wasn’t a secret to anyone, neither student nor staff. Not even popular seniors could miss him, and he knew it, but he humored her anyway. Yeah. Then he bolstered her ego. And you’re Jessica, captain of the varsity cheerleaders.

Aww… you know my name. Have you been talking about me with your friend?

Quin saw her point at him, but pretended not to notice, because the truth would piss her off. He’d never spent an ounce of energy on Jessica, and neither had Weylin, but Weylin had no problem telling the hexless what they wanted to hear, even if it was a lie.

Come on, Jessica, you know everyone talks about you.

She smiled, and while the makeup she wore concealed the true color of her cheeks, Quin could tell she was blushing. This surely made Weylin proud, but it wasn’t a difficult feat. Making hexless girls blush was easy. Even the most popular and experienced women blushed when confronted by wizards, who were far more confident and forward than hexless men. Most of the girls in school had never been properly appreciated or encouraged by their male counterparts, and even the boys they screwed couldn’t find the balls to tell them they were beautiful.

I hope the things they say are good, Jessica replied, proving that even those at the top of the high school food chain needed to fish for approval.

Weylin offered her a flirtatious wink. Always.

They’d reached their locker, so Quin left Weylin and Jessica in the middle of the hall and discretely unlocked the combination with magic. His half of the locker was bigger and more organized than Weylin’s half, but Quin rarely took schoolwork home and needed the space. Grabbing his invisible satchel off the back hook, he used magic to tie it to his waistband. Then he turned to find Weylin approaching with a new phone number in hand.

He grinned and raised his eyebrows, tucking Jessica’s number in his pocket as he crammed his backpack in the locker. I’d say that’s a good start to spring break.

Kegan approached, and Quin greeted him with a nod while speaking to Weylin. You’re not really going to use that, are you?

Use what? Kegan asked, stacking his books in their locker instead of walking ten feet to his own, which he shared with a hexless boy and rarely utilized.

Weylin snagged Jessica’s number, Quin answered.

Captain of the cheerleaders Jessica?

Yeah.

Kegan laughed and shoved a shoulder into the locker door, forcing it shut. I know a senior football player who wouldn’t be too thrilled about that.

He’ll never know, Weylin assured, patting his pocket. It’ll go in a jar at home.

You’re joking, Quin laughed. You have a jar of hexless numbers?

I do. Started collecting them last year.

Why? As trophies? Come on, man, you’re better than that.

They’re not trophies. I haven’t scored with any of them, but if one day I wake up and all our girls have turned on me, I have backups. It’s smart, and who’s it hurting?

How about the girl sitting by the phone?

Hey, Weylin countered, "I didn’t ask for their numbers, they offered them. Not once have the words I’ll call you slipped from my mouth."

Sounds like he’s covered his bases, Kegan approved.

Quin couldn’t disagree, so he dropped it and headed for the gym. Kegan and Weylin followed, discussing Weylin’s chances of growing a full beard over spring break, but as they approached the main entrance, Quin interrupted them. Are you going to practice, Keg?

Probably should, Kegan answered. I sure as hell don’t want to get spit on for missing it.

You two make me feel like a slacker, Weylin disapproved, heading for the doors. When you’re done being responsible and shit, come to the hockey clearing. We’re camping tonight. And you better not back out, Quin. I promised the girls we’d be there.

Which girls? Quin called, but Weylin dismissed him with a wave and walked out the door.

Quin sighed and continued toward the gym. I’m going to have to kick his ass.

Kegan laughed as he caught up. Wouldn’t be the first time. But he’s just looking out for you this time. He’s a good wingman.

I don’t need a wingman.

Yeah, you do, because you’re too damn noble to do your own hunting.

Say that again in your head, Keg, and you might hear what an asshole you sound like. Girls aren’t game to be hunted, and I’m not looking for a keeper.

You’re right, Kegan admitted, that does seem like an asshole remark in hindsight, but you know about a dozen witches who’d fuck you with no strings attached, but you don’t pursue any of them.

Because it would give them the wrong idea, Quin explained, entering the locker room. A few students glanced up before looking away, and Quin dug into his satchel while finding an empty row to change in.

Kegan followed him to a deserted bench and dug into his own bag. Weylin knows you don’t want to give the girls the wrong idea. That’s why he steps in.

Well he needs to step back, because I don’t need his help. I had sex three weeks ago.

Kegan’s head bobbed as he flipped his gaze to Quin’s face. You did? With who?

Quin glanced around to make sure no one was watching. Then he vanished his jeans and t-shirt while magically donning shorts and a tank top. Trinity – Maeveen and Nevyn’s older cousin.

The one from Germany?

Quin smiled and raised his eyebrows. Ja.

Kegan laughed as he shook his head. Figures you’d go for one who lives overseas, but there won’t always be imports around.

Quin slipped on his running shoes and casually pointed at his laces, magically tying them. When’s the last time you had sex?

Kegan grimaced. More than three weeks.

Sounds like you need Weylin more than I do.

Screw you, man, Kegan returned, giving Quin’s shoulder a shove, which turned into a lighthearted wrestling match, which ended in a race to the outdoor track.

Quin won with ease, but stopped before reaching the cluster of runners stretching on the sidelines of the football field. Cheerleaders gathered on the opposite sidelines, and students still poured from the locker rooms. Kegan hadn’t caught up yet, and when Quin turned to look for him, he nearly bumped into Rachel, a hexless sophomore and track teammate.

She let out a flustered laugh and offered him a timid wave. Hi.

Hi, he returned, stepping out of her pale aura. Sorry about that.

That’s okay. I didn’t mean to sneak up on you. She glanced behind her. Are you waiting for someone?

Kegan.

Oh. I think I saw him talking to Abigail.

Of course he is, Quin mumbled, heading for the field. Every wizard under eighteen was smitten by Abigail Bryant, and Kegan wasn’t immune to her charm.

Rachel kept Quin’s pace as they walked toward their teammates, and he focused on her aura, trying to determine her motivation to be near him.

My friend skipped, she revealed, surprisingly forward for a hexless girl her age, so I don’t have a running mate. I know I can’t keep up with you, but you never sprint unless coach calls for it.

Quin continued to search her aura as he cautiously responded. Wouldn’t you rather run with one of the girls?

I’m not friends with them.

He stopped short of their team and faced her. Not to sound rude, but we’re not friends either.

Rachel didn’t wear as much makeup as Jessica, and most of it had worn off, so her blush was visible to anyone looking, but she remained bold in her request. I know we’re not friends, but the alternative to you is an asshole... She gestured to a group of male runners then shifted her hand toward the females. …or a bitch. Given those options, I’d rather run alone.

Quin laughed. Despite his constant effort to steer clear of hexless relationships of any sort, he liked Rachel. She had guts, didn’t put too much stock in her reputation, and her request didn’t seem the least bit flirtatious. They’d shared classes since their freshman year, and not once had she expressed interest in him. A few laps around the track probably wouldn’t change that.

As he opened his mouth to agree, Abigail’s laugh echoed in his right ear. Then her bright aura swallowed Rachel, who seemed to shrink while looking at the ground.

Hey, Quin, Abigail chimed, curling her fingers around his bicep, and with the smooth agility of a witch, she positioned herself between him and Rachel. Kegan and I were just talking about tonight. Let’s go over plans while we run.

Quin succumbed to an arousing glimpse of Abigail’s abundant cleavage. Then he found her heather-purple eyes and betrayed his body. I’m running with Rachel today. Her friend skipped.

Abigail scowled and whipped her head around, her aura pulsing as she glared at Rachel, and Quin could have sworn he heard Abigail hiss. Unwilling to let a hexless teen taste the wrath of a witch, Quin hit Kegan’s shoulder and motioned for him to run interference.

Kegan was more than willing to be Abigail’s distraction, so he wrapped one arm around her shoulders and steered her toward the rest of the team. Looks like it’s just you and me, doll. Can you handle the downgrade?

She giggled, already over it. You know you’re better than that, Keg.

Rachel looked up from the ground, but didn’t meet Quin’s stare. You didn’t have to do that. I can run alone.

I’m sure you can, Quin replied. You wouldn’t be on the track team if you couldn’t.

She gave a nod, but didn’t say anything more. Their coach had shown up and was spitting instructions, so they stayed quiet until they were jogging on the track.

So why did you do it? Rachel asked.

She was one of the faster females on the team, but Quin barely had to exert himself to keep her pace. Do what?

Choose to run with me instead of the prettiest girl in school.

Abby can run with anyone on the team. You needed a partner. I don’t care either way. I’m just here for the credit.

You don’t like her?

Quin glanced ahead, finding Abigail’s gorgeous ass and full breasts, which she tried to contain with a sport’s bra